Chapter Twenty-Three

 

Adrian

 

The only solace there was in having breakfast with my parents was that they dined in places most college student couldn’t afford. There had been no extended invitation for Rory to join us—even though he couldn’t—and it pissed me off that they’d so easily ignored the only positive thing in my life.

If I didn’t know my mother’s nerves were shot, the Bloody Mary she’d ordered with her scrambled eggs would have been a clear indicator. I stuck with toast and dreamed of coffee since I’d only managed a few hours of sleep the night before. My system was so out of whack. I didn’t know if I was coming or going. Being awake in the day was a foreign concept anymore.

I left Rory asleep, wrote him a note telling him I’d be back later, and snuck out to meet my parents downstairs in the lobby. My father’s curled nose told me what he thought of Rory’s apartment complex. I desperately wanted to have a snarky remark but held my tongue.

We sat around a small circular table in a quaint little restaurant in Dewhurst’s north end. The décor reminded me of a kitchen you might see in a little country farmhouse with its frilly white tablecloths, carved wooden signs hanging on the walls declaring how family was the root of happiness, and the uncountable number of roosters and chickens emblazed on random surfaces. It might have given the appearance of down to earth, but the menu was extensive; more extravagant than a breakfast menu ought to be. And the prices were just plain stupid. Talk about over inflation. It was eggs and toast for crying out loud.

My father dressed his coffee in silence while I poked the ice in my glass of water with a straw. I’d never been permitted to drink coffee in their presence because apparently, it might hamper my developing brain. If my father thought caffeine would kill brain cells, I wonder what he’d think if he knew I’d taken a huge liking to semen. I stifled a laugh and toyed with my napkin.

Before my thoughts could wander to Rory and all we’d shared the previous night, I shuffled in my seat and peeked a glance at my parents. The silence was unbearable, but I knew it was one of those times where I was being made to wait for a reason. There was no sense striking up a conversation because I’d just be asked to be quiet because it wasn’t my turn to speak. There was an art to how my father did everything, from brushing his teeth to scolding his son.

My father cleared his throat once he’d taken his first sample taste of coffee. Judging by the look on his face, it was satisfactory enough for him to finish or else the waitress would have been called over to replace it.

“In light of my conversation with Roger Wilson, I feel that once you’ve made a proper statement naming the culprits of yesterday’s antics and those students are properly disciplined, I think we will have you transferred to the U of T to complete your degree. Roger has already agreed to have a word with their program administrator and ensure that the transition is smooth and immediate. Come September, everything will be in place as it should have been four years ago.”

I bit the inside of my cheek as he spoke, knowing better than to interrupt him. My stomach twisted, hearing the inevitable conclusion to yesterday’s drama.

“I don’t want to transfer schools.”

“Nonsense. The mockery that was made of our family is unforgivable, and I refuse to allow you to remain here another day.”

“There was no mockery to this family. It was just me, Dad. Not you. Not Mom. Not anyone else. None of this would have happened if you’d have listened to me earlier.”

My father’s lips pursed, and before he could inject his opinion, my mother jumped in. “Sweetheart, your father and I are trying to save you from a humiliating situation. How can you fathom staying in a place that is so foul? It’s more than just the video and all that was… exposed, but we feel you have become too… corrupted into a lifestyle that doesn’t fit who you are.”

I flinched, unsure if I understood correctly. “Excuse me? What does that mean?”

My father scanned the restaurant before lowering his voice. “We saw enough perversion in that video to last a lifetime. Deciding it was natural to… experiment in such ways only tells us we’ve left you on your own and unguided too long. The U of T has a much more—”

“What?! Are you serious? Because I used a dildo in the privacy of my own room, I’m somehow corrupted?”

“Adrian, bring your voice down,” my mother chided.

“No. What the hell? Enough perversion to last a lifetime? It was literally two minutes of a video, or less before Krew stopped it. Enough to be utterly humiliating, yes, but I’m twenty-four, it’s not unnatural to have sexual urges and to want to experiment some. Jesus, I’m not twelve, and that’s not perverse!”

The fury behind my father’s gaze burned me, but I refused to back down.

“It’s because I’m gay, isn’t it?” I added, meeting his anger with my own. “You said unnatural. That’s what that means, isn’t it?”

“Sweetheart, your father and I are fine with your sexuality.”

“Really? Does Dad agree with that statement? Do you?”

“Adrian—”

“I’m not leaving Dewhurst. Somehow, I’ll move past this shitstorm and keep going. I like this school, and I like my job, and I’m not leaving Rory… I… I love him.”

The silence was deafening. It was like the hum of other patrons, and the clatter of waitresses delivering food had been sucked into a vacuum leaving nothing but emptiness. The lack of sound hurt my ears as I waited for a response. It was almost like time had stopped.

It was true. I hadn’t found words to express it to Rory yet, but I loved him. The idea of leaving and never knowing what we could have hurt too much to fathom.

After an agonizing handful of minutes, my father removed the napkin from his lap and threw it on the table before pushing back and standing.

“If you’ll excuse me,” he snapped.

I thought he was leaving the restaurant altogether, but he stormed in the direction of the washrooms leaving my mom and me alone.

“He’ll be fine. Give him a minute.”

I wanted to scream.

“Your father has always carried such high aspirations for you, Adrian. He only wants you to succeed.”

“At what cost? Is my success more important than my happiness?”

“Of course not.”

“Sure feels that way.”

My mother had always been the more reasonable of the two, but it was a crap shoot if she could get through to my dad. There were days she was as narrow-minded as him, but if I wanted to stay in Dewhurst, she might be my only hope of making him see reason.

“Mom, the guys who did this are my roommates. They’ve been bullying me since I moved in four years ago. Every year it’s worse. This never would have happened if Dad had listened to me a few months ago when I called. I told him I wanted to live somewhere else, but he blew me off just like he has since I was a kid. I don’t want to leave this school. And I’m not leaving Rory. I work my ass off, and he knows it. Can’t you talk to him? It’d be nice to have my parents on my side for a change.”

She took a deep drink from her Bloody Mary, nearly draining the glass, before acknowledging me. “He just wants the best for you, Adrian.”

“Despite all that crap in the lecture hall yesterday, the best is here.” With Rory, I wanted to add, but I held my tongue.

“I’ll talk with him.”

Breakfast finished on pins and needles. The air was thick with unspoken animosity. Afterward, my father escorted me to the college to meet with the dean. I shared about my roommates and the ongoing problems I’d been having while Roger took notes and my father listened silently from his perch by the window. Roger explained that because we lived in college housing, rules of conduct extended to there as well. Calvin, Dylan, and on a lesser scale, Marcus, had violated many rules and breached my privacy on more than one occasion.

As Roger took more notes, he mumbled, “I’ll be meeting with a constable this afternoon to discuss what further action we might take. A lot of this will be difficult to prove since it will be your word against theirs. Is there anyone who could validate these claims?”

I opened my mouth to say no but closed it again when a thought occurred to me. Despite agreeing with Rory, somewhere deep inside, I truly felt Marcus wasn’t a bad person. He was as much a victim as me, but the only way he kept himself safe was by pretending to go along with everything. If he could have helped sooner with regards to the video, I believed he would have.

“It’s possible Marcus might speak up. I get the feeling he’s not like the others. Just a hunch.”

“Noted,” Roger said, penning more on his pad. “I’ll be in touch, Adrian. The police might need to talk with you as well if it goes that far, but I’ll let you know.”

 

* * *

 

By the time I made it back to Rory’s it was mid-afternoon. I expected him to be asleep, so I let myself in with the key he’d given me earlier, only to find him sitting on the couch, working on his laptop with a lit cigarette pinched between fingers.

“Shit!” He smashed it out in the ashtray the moment he saw me and jumped up like there was something he was going to do about the thick cloud hovering in the air.

I halted as he stared at the curtain-covered windows in desperation. The anguish on his face cut me deep.

“I couldn’t go outside,” he explained. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know when you’d be back and…”

And the fact that he was wearing sunglasses and his body was covered head to toe in clothing, including the drawn-up hood from his sweatshirt told me his stress was still high. He’d been profoundly affected by his exposure the day before. It accounted for the clothing, and stress always made him smoke more.

“I have my inhaler. I’ll live.”

His shoulders slumped, and I could just barely make out the look of remorse on his face. The room was dark apart from the faint glow around the curtains. “I’ve been trying to cut back. I want to quit, but it’s become reflexive to grab a smoke when I’m stressed. I’m sorry.”

My nose twitched, and I tried to ignore it as I fell into his arms. “Trust me, I get it.”

I burrowed into his neck and pressed my nose against his skin, inhaling, regardless of the risk to my lungs. Maybe it was a disgusting habit, but I’d long ago learned how the smell of cigarettes mixed with Rory’s natural chemistry made me smile and warmed me inside and out. It was familiar and safe. It was him.

“I had a long shitty day already,” I told him. “It’s possible I’ll be applying for student loans and living on the street by Monday, but I’m not leaving you.”

His arms squeezed tighter, and he buried his face in my hair. “Good. I need you here. I… I called Dr. Kelby this morning. She’s going to come over and meet with me a week from Wednesday. I made the appointment for nine-thirty at night, so maybe you could be here with me. I… I gotta do something. I can’t live like this. You deserve so much better.”

I lifted off his shoulder and searched his face. Removing his shades, I stared into his eyes. Eyes I knew were a beautiful shade of green when the light hit them just right. “You deserve so much better, Rory.”

“I’m scared of what it means to get better, but I think I’m more scared of living in this prison.” He kissed me before continuing. “I don’t want to live with these limitations anymore. I want to grocery shop for myself. I want to visit my parents. I miss them so much. I want to take you on a proper date. And next time you receive some high-achievement award, I want to be there with you.”

The depth of vulnerability behind his eyes was something he’d never allowed to show before. When I saw it and felt it, I knew the demons in his mind were losing ground. There was a distinctive shift in his spirit, and the darkness he usually carried within had lightened a few more shades. Someday, with more positive steps forward, I hoped there would be nothing left of it. I wanted to be there when the bright essence of his soul cast away the dark for good.

I touched his face and marveled at the strength and assuredness he possessed. Trailing my fingers down his jaw, I touched his lips. Our relationship had bloomed unexpectedly, but I didn’t regret a thing, even if we’d broken a few rules to get that far. I needed him as much as he needed me. Every step forward gave me hope for a better tomorrow. For both of us. “I love you, Rory. I’ll be beside you through all of it if you want me there. I believe in you. In us.”

My words froze him. His breath caught and held. I didn’t expect him to return the sentiment, even though I knew he felt the same, so I kissed him, removing any obligation he might feel. Even when he wasn’t ready with words, Rory had shown me his heart the night before when we’d made love.

As he took my hand and guided me to the bedroom, I decided, if that was the only way he was able to express himself, I was fine with that.

 

* * *

 

The phone call came Monday afternoon when Rory and I were still in bed. I hadn’t been back to my apartment in over a week, and Rory had all but insisted I stay indefinitely.

The caller ID only told me it was home, which meant whoever was calling was using the landline. I held my breath and connected the call.

“Hello.” My voice was thick with sleep as I fell back on the pillow beside Rory, draping an arm over my face.

“You sound like I’ve woken you up.”

My father. His voice was tight but not unfriendly.

“You did. I work midnights, remember?”

“Government Counseling Office. I remember. How is that going to work when you’re in school?”

My brain hadn’t fully awakened, but his statement brought more alertness to the surface. Referencing my job and school sounded an awful lot like he was saying I was staying.

“I’ll be switched to a few afternoons a week. Just short shifts, so it won’t interfere with my studies.”

“Hmm.” After an extended silence he drew a sharp inhale through his nose. “Adrian, your mother and I have discussed many things this past week. In light of what you shared with Roger, I’ve decided your living arrangements are inadequate. I’ve withdrawn my payment for next semester’s rent and found you a fitting apartment off campus. It’s a little farther than I’d have liked, but your mother assures me that public transportation in the city is an acceptable option for a twenty-four-year-old.”

I shot up in bed, stirring Rory awake and rubbed at my eyes, ensuring I wasn’t dreaming. “I… I’m staying?”

“That was your request, was it not?”

“Yes, sir. Thank you.”

“I understand these roommates have been given a warning with the threat of expulsion should their behavior continue. Even if they are being closely monitored, I’d rather not take the chance of you living there any longer.”

It was true. Calvin and Dylan had been given a slap on the wrist. Although my father had hired a lawyer who was working to fine the pair in court, calling their actions a sexual violation and harassment, there was no telling if he’d win. Laws surrounding harassment weren’t clear-cut, but if my father had his way, those two would get what was coming to them.

Marcus had validated all my claims and requested a transfer into a dorm. It was amazing how fast they’d managed to make that happen for him. I was glad.

“The apartment won’t be ready until October first. I’m concerned about your living arrangements until then, but…” He paused, and a few more audible deep breaths came through the line. “But, perhaps this boyfriend of yours would kindly allow you to stay a few weeks with him since you seem to be close.”

Yup, I was definitely dreaming. Leaning over Rory, I flicked on the bedside light, sending him fleeing beneath the covers as I rattled my head, certain I hadn’t heard him right.

“Pardon me?”

“Adrian, you know how I feel about repeating myself. Whatever impression I may have given you, I am not disgusted or appalled by my son’s sexuality. I am all too aware of how hormones and relationships can get in the way of proper studies. You are living proof. Be mindful of your grades, and I won’t take issue with you indulging in your natural young urges.”

I was rendered speechless. Every effort to summon words escaped me.

“At least you can’t wind up pregnant like your mother did,” he mumbled.

I snorted at the dismissive comment and slapped a hand over my mouth.

“Thank you, Dad. Rory won’t mind letting me stay, I’m sure of it.”

“Next time we’re in town, I hope to properly meet this young man.”

“We’ll try to make that happen.”

I didn’t want to make any promises since there was no telling when they’d be around again or how Rory would take to therapy, but I held hope that eventually my parents and boyfriend would meet.